


We Can Do This All Day...

by pherryt



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [16]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Ambushing, Canon Divergent, Confessions, First Kisses, Fluff, How They Get Together, Kisses, Library, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Injury, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sweet Moments, Terrible Choices, Water Guns, deaf!Clint, game, implied past peggy/steve, mention of others, mention of stealing sneaking fighting and getting sick, nerf guns, post winter soldier, tower fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Steve tries to change some behavior of his, but Bucky won't have it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Stucky, ameriwinterhawk
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416790
Comments: 33
Kudos: 98
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019





	1. Don't Change a Thing

**Author's Note:**

> this one is filling the Bucky Barnes Bingo: Terrible Choices and gets me another bingo :D
> 
> Notes:  
> 1 - I'm not sure about the rating yet. i have it marked as mature for the moment but it might go up.  
> 2 - i am envisioning this as a prequel to [ "It's Not Porn, It's Art..."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901272/chapters/49685543) aka - how they got together to start with  
> 3 - i'm planning on 3 chapters. i've started chapter 3 already but i'm getting tired and i'm just gonna go ahead and post the first two and hope i can finish the other tomorrow

Everyone knew that Bucky Barnes was Steve’s best friend.

Everyone _knew_ that Steve got himself into way more trouble than he should have, and hated it when Bucky (inevitably) had to bail him out.

_Everyone_ knew that it was Steve, finally, who bailed Bucky out in the war.

What everyone _didn’t_ know was he blamed himself for Bucky’s death. Because Bucky didn’t have to be there. Should have been sent home, in fact, after the shit he went through. But it was never just Steve that had a competitive streak a mile wide.

Bucky did too.

They were always trying to one up each other and neither one of them knew how to back down. So when Steve practically dared Bucky to come with him, Bucky said yes instead of taking the discharge he’d been offered.

Steve had known better, he really had, but he’d been desperately lonely and out of place. So many people wanting to use him or look at him like a sideshow freak. He just wanted to be a _person_ again – just a person who happened to be able to help.

He didn’t want dames falling all over him – he only wanted one. The same one who knew about Bucky, didn’t judge them for what they were together. She was a treasure who’d always seen him for who he was.

He didn’t want to be poked and prodded – that did nothing to help in the war. He didn’t want hero worship either, he just wanted to be a part of something that would bring about change and hope.

Bucky and the Howling Commando’s gave Steve that.

So he’d ignored his common sense and did what he and Bucky always did – make terrible choices.

Like the time Bucky took him up on the Cyclone at Coney Island. God, Steve had been sick everywhere, and was still wobbly when he’d gotten home.

Or the time, one of those rare summers they had the free time and a little extra cash, that they’d hopped a bus to the Hamptons, gorged themselves sick on seafood while Steve got so sunburnt he couldn’t wear shirts for a week before they got chased off the beach for starting a fight with a couple of spoiled rich kids.

(Steve had started it, if he recalled, defending some poor dames, and Bucky had stepped in, as per usual).

There was also the time they snuck in to Ebbets Field to watch the Dodgers. They’d been caught and thrown out on their ear before the second inning.

Yeah, they’d been doing this their whole lives: from cutting up his mother’s best frock for some school project Steve couldn’t even remember, to taking Becca sledding without permission (she’d lost two teeth that day), Bucky had been at his side assuring him things would be fine and Steve was at Bucky’s, egging him on.

Of course, the neighborhood had gotten wise to their antics early on, but it had never stopped Bucky or Steve. The Howling Commandos had, certainly, never been the types to reign in either of their commanding officers’ terrible decisions – unless it affected the safety of the commandos and the mission.

Instead, they encouraged the behavior, since it kept everyone on their toes and made life more interesting in a ‘we’re not gonna die today’ way.

So uniforms were switched, or stolen entirely. Trees were climbed (and fallen out of), poker games won and lost (and a few articles of clothing, too). There was the infamous drinking contest - Bucky was so pissed when he realized Steve couldn’t even _get_ drunk anymore and called him a cheating cheater who cheated and didn’t listen to Steve’s protests that he didn’t _know_ the serum had done that!

So Steve knew what he was doing when he asked Bucky to join him, to join the Howling Commandos in what seemed like their one unit war on all of HYDRA. Steve _knew_.

And he’d asked him anyway.

And at first, things had been fine. They’d been going great. The Howling Commandos had felt invincible and Steve, doubly so.

With Bucky, the Commandos and Peggy at his side, he’d been so certain he could do _anything._ Everything changed in a single instant, with a single fall. Steve had watched his world fall away from him – all because he’d been too selfish.

When Bucky exploded back into his life, Steve took it as a sign and swore that would change. He’d never risk losing Bucky again.

Of course, when Bucky found out why Steve was acting so strangely, he’d snorted and shook his head with a wry, challenging smile on his face. Then he took Steve’s face in his hand and bumped their foreheads together.

“You can’t change who you are, Stevie,” Bucky said softly. “Physical appearances notwithstanding. I’m talking about the core of you, your heart.” Bucky slid a hand down to poke at Steve’s chest. “I fell in love with a dumbass with a good heart. I came _back_ for the dumbass with the same good heart. And some of those bad choices we’ve made? Have led to the best damn things we ever had…”

Steve scoffed and Bucky shushed him.

“Meeting you because you were getting beat up for rescuing a dog that was being tortured. I never regretted that busted nose or that black eye. That horrible job we had, so we could make a little extra cash for our moms? To get Becca that one thing she couldn’t live without? God, the looks on their faces, Stevie, that was all the gift _we_ needed, right? You remember that?”

“Of course I remember, Buck,” Steve whispered, tears filling his eyes.

“The pencil set I stole you, seein’ you draw, the joy it gave you – that was priceless, even if Mr. McLeary suspected and gave me the stink eye for _months_ afterward. And I treasured those damn books you got me, selling your only watch to afford it. Was that worth it to you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, his voice hoarse.

“Our first kiss…” Bucky whispered, leaning close to brush his lips over Steve’s softly, briefly. “On the roof of our tenement, way too fucking drunk to care, nursing double broken hearts – then again, the next morning, when our damn heads were pounding from the hooch and hearts were also pounding in fear. Coulda gone so bad if even one of us didn’t feel the same sober that we did drunk, but we risked everything in that moment – and came out the other side.”

“Yeah, yeah we did, Buck,” Steve choked out, not even trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I treasure each and every one of our terrible decisions. It led me to you, and to love. So what if we hit a rough patch in the center – we even got through that,” Bucky said.

“A rough patch? That what you wanna call it?” Steve asked skeptically with a short laugh, his words more than a little wet sounding.

“Yeah, it is, punk,” Bucky said with a grin. “I ain’t letting the Winter Soldier take over all that I am. He’s a part of me now, like it or not, but he’s not the whole part of me and I’m choosing to move on and focus on the good things.”

“There were good things about being the Winter Soldier?” Steve asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t see how that’s possible.”

“Not much,” Bucky agreed. “But it brought me back to you, 70 years later. Brought me back in a way that means I can keep up with you when the rest of the world grows old, and you won’t have to be alone when it does.”

And okay, that was true. Steve just wished those intervening years had never happened for Bucky. Bucky might say he was focusing on the positive but that was easier said than done. Steve was still woken by the nightmares Bucky had of being the cold and ruthless killing machine, of the lives he’d taken – absolutely uncaring.

But he was right. They had to move forward and stop dwelling on the past. Remember it, sure. Learn the lessons it had given, absolutely, but move forward nonetheless.

Steve nodded and kissed Bucky hard until they were both breathless.

“Now, how’s this for a terrible decision,” Bucky asked. “Raid the kitchen for all the ice cream we can find and eat it all while watching one of those movies on your list?”

Laughing, Steve dropped his head to Bucky’s shoulder. “I dunno. Sounds like a _great_ decision to me.”

“No it ain’t, punk. I saw that list. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna hate anything Tony added to it, and from what I can see, he added plenty.”

“We’ll watch one of Clint’s then,” Steve said. “He hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”

Bucky hummed his agreement and the two of them wasted no time in acquiring the ice cream and absconding with it, JARVIS helpfully playing clips of various Avengers getting upset when their freezer was opened and the cupboard was bare, much to Bucky and Steve’s chortling delight.

The revenge from the others would probably be petty as fuck, but they’d deserve it. But none of that mattered because Bucky was right. Their terrible decisions had led them here –

To an apartment in Avengers Tower, sitting on a couch and cuddling with 12 tubs of ice cream spread out around them and the absurdly large tv playing Disney’s Robin Hood.

Robin, it seemed, also made horrible life choices, walking straight into a trap, but it had worked out all right for him. Why did he and Bucky deserve anything less?

“You’re still thinkin’ too much,” Bucky complained, flopping dramatically in Steve’s lap and kissing him senseless. “How about now?”

“Mmm… I dunno. We’ll have to try again. That might work better with multiple applications,” Steve said.

“Christ, Stevie,” Bucky laughed. “You been spendin’ far too much time with Stark down in his labs.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Buck,” Steve growled.

Bucky didn’t deign to answer, just doing what he was told. Which made sense, as it wasn’t exactly a hardship for Steve to kiss Bucky.

He could do this _all_ day.


	2. Super Soakers, Nerf Guns and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wants revenge for the ice cream theft and it gives Bucky another idea... which leads to certain revelations for a pair of super soldiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes Bingo - square filled: Dares/Bets - this gets me another Bingo!
> 
> Note - This chapter switches POV's at the chapter breaks, so all three of them get a turn . hope that's not too jarring for you guys! but some of this just made more sense with the POV switch and i didn't want to make the chapters any shorter than they already were...

Clint crawled through the vents, pushing the absurdly and garishly colored gun in front of him. If the resident super soldiers of the tower didn’t think Clint wouldn’t get back at them for eating his Ben & Jerry’s “Coffee, Coffee, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz” Ice Cream, they had another thing coming.

_I mean, sure,_ he thought. _Mine wasn’t the only ice cream that disappeared from the freezer, but don’t they know how **hard** it is to find a store that **stocks** that stuff?_

He paused at the junction, and readied the Super Soaker. He knew Bucky and Steve’s schedules, knew they’d be coming down by the range annnnny second now. And yes, there they were, right on time - Clint could hear their voices as they walked closer and closer to the ceiling vent he was in. He counted silently to himself, then kicked out the grate, flipped so that he was hanging out of it upside down and squeezed the trigger, soaking the backs of both unsuspecting super soldiers with water.

Before they could react, he was back up in the vent and moving away with a chortling glee. Steve, he knew, couldn’t _possibly_ follow him here. Bucky was shorter, but also bulky enough that Clint wasn’t worried about him either.

Clint continued to use the vents to his advantage the rest of the day, popping out at rando and unexpected intervals, lulling Bucky and Steve into a false sense of security time after time as he waited and didn’t attack until they were finally so far on edge that it was more satisfying to just watch them from afar.

He went to bed feeling pleased with himself for having won that round.

He woke, having forgotten the events of the day prior – or, really, he hadn’t exactly woken up yet – and shuffled to the common area for coffee in his sweatpants and nothing else.

And stared in horror.

Because the coffee machine was missing.

He fell to his knees and raised his hands to his head, clutching at his hair. “Nooooooo, coffee, why?!”

“Over dramatic much?” Tony asked, swinging past him to get to the fridge.

“Coffee.” Clint pointed mournfully at where the coffee machine should be. Tony looked over at the empty space.

“Huh,” he said. “Good thing I’ve got my own in my lab. And in my own quarters. You know, my private places people know better to invade.”

“You’re still down here,” Clint pointed out. “You use this coffee pot as much as I do.”

“Because I’m a people person. I like people. Sometimes. And actually, that’s not true. When I’m on a inventing binge, I use the one in the lab. Anyway, good luck getting it back, Katniss.” Tony shot the last comment over his shoulder as he disappeared into the elvevator.

“Traitor,” Clint muttered. “Hey JARVIS, where are Bucky and Steve now?”

“My apologies, Agent Barton, but I am not currently permitted to say. However, Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes _did_ ask me to pass a message on to you, in the event you did ask.”

Clint eyed the ceiling suspiciously. “Uh huh. And what did this message say, JARVIS?”

“Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes invite you to a game of ‘tag’. Only the upper levels of the Tower are free reign, no vents allowed in the interest of keeping it fair, and points are deducted for tagging innocent bystanders. Your weapons have been provided. Please check the bar – once you pick up a weapon, the game is in play.” JARVIS supplied. “I believe they also left a note in place of the coffee pot, should you like to check.”

“Probably a ransom note,” Clint muttered, but he stood and walked over to the counter. Sure enough, there was an envelope – pristinely white, crisp and neat - with his name written in Steve’s flowing handwriting. He ran a finger over the letters and swallowed before picking up the envelope and carefully opening it.

“Relax, Barton,” he chided himself. “It’s not a bomb.”

He unfolded the paper inside, to be confronted this time with Bucky’s handwriting – not quite as artistic, but much neater than Clint’s ever hoped to be.

“James Barnes and Steve Rogers cordially invite you to a game. The person who ends the night with the most kills is the winner. No leaving the designated zone except for emergencies. JARVIS will keep score, so no cheating.”

Clint snorted. Like Bucky and Steve wouldn’t team up to get Clint.

Another piece of paper behind the other one showed a map of the levels approved for play as well as the off-limit areas – like the bathroom. Fair enough. He wandered over to the bar and grinned in glee at the selection of Nerf weapons displayed there. He reached forward, then paused.

“JARVIS – please tell Steve and Bucky I accept their dare and then you can tell them I’m gonna beat their asses into the ground,” Clint said with a grin. Despite the lack of coffee, Clint was suddenly wide awake and energized. He perused the selection and quickly decided on a small handful. The second his hands closed around the first of his choices, his stark hearing aids – which also doubled as comms – flared to life.

“Like hell you are,” Bucky said in his ear. “You’re going down, Barton.”

“Please,” Clint snorted. “You should know by now, I _neve_ r miss. I bet I have you two running around in circles shooting at each other in no time, just to up your own scores to surpass mine.”

“Not gonna happen,” Steve said. “As for never missing – you gotta find us first.”

“That a fact,” Clint said. “You _do_ know I’m a spy, right?”

A change in the air made Clint duck before he was even aware he was moving, several Nerf bullets hitting the wall mere seconds later. He spun, aimed and shot off two darts – one for each Super Soldier – and grinned at the grunt he got from one and the curse he got from the other.

“What’d I say? I’m the best,” he chuckled, slinging a larger gun over his chest and grabbing an ammo box and a bag to sling the other way, shoving one of the smaller nerf guns into his pocket and hoping the threadbare sweatpants didn’t tear. Even if they didn’t, though, they were loose enough that the weight of the nerf weapon made them sag a little more indecently than he’d planned for. Maybe running around barefoot and bare-chested hadn’t been the wisest of ideas, but he was committed now.

There was a strangled choking sound from the other side of the room as he edged behind the furniture. He peeked out to find that Bucky and Steve were both gaping after him.

Or… maybe it was working to his advantage.

He bounced up on his toes, shot off another couple of shots each, watching them snap their jaws shut as each one collided with their chests and heads, then ducked and rolled out of sight.

This was gonna be fun.

* * *

“Holy fucking Christ, Stevie,” Bucky said as Clint disappeared from the common area.

“I know,” Steve said, far too calmly for Bucky’s mind.

“You know? You _know_? That’s all you gotta say about him --” Bucky waved vaguely in the direction Clint had left in. “- _engaging us_ like _that?”_ In Bucky’s mind, all he could see were those gorgeous biceps, the toned body, those abs and the little trail of hair leading down – he swallowed. “Guess he’s a natural blonde.”

Steve flashed him a grin. “C’mon, Buck. This was your idea and we’re letting him get away.”

Buck frowned. “Not for long we’re not.”

Soon enough, the three of them were embroiled in their odd little war with the other residents of the tower falling into one of three categories: steering absolutely clear (Bruce and Pepper), gleefully becoming obstacles or sending them off in the wrong directions (Nat) or attempting to sabotage the game altogether by giving away hiding spots or loudly greeting one of the players as they snuck around corners (Tony, Sam and Thor).

They’d been at it for about 6 hours, nearly non stop, and Bucky was grinning from ear to ear and sweating up a storm. He had bashed his head into Steve’s at one point, stubbed his foot on a deceptively solid looking chair at another and had bounced off more than a few walls as he skidded around corners (he _might_ have left dents, but don’t tell Tony) and all in all, he was having the time of his life.

He had no idea who was winning, since they’d asked JARVIS not to reveal the points till it was over, but he was feeling fairly good with himself. For the most part, Bucky hadn’t missed any shot he’d made – but neither had Clint. But Clint was even better at hiding and sneaking around the tower – despite the lack of vents at his disposal – then Bucky or Steve were.

Currently, Bucky was sneaking through the kitchen (for about the umpteenth time) hoping to stop long enough to grab a snack. He’d been burning a lot of calories and, at the very least, could use a Gatorade. He looked around, strained his ears and finally relaxed.

It looked like the coast was clear – not even another Avenger in the area to call attention to his presence. Excellent.

Placing his main Nerf gun on the counter, Bucky opened the fridge, reaching in for a purple bottle of Gatorade. He cracked the cap and turned as he started to chug it down and froze, still standing in the open fridge door.

Clint stood there, still half naked, his body glistening with the same sweat Bucky was drenched in and his eyes caught on a drop that slowly traced a path over his pec, just past his nipple.

Bucky ripped his gaze up and met Clint’s, eyes sparkling with mischief, with a grin that made Bucky’s stomach swoop. He swallowed, choking on the horrible purple drink.

“You okay there?” Clint asked with a little bit of concern. Desperately, Bucky nodded, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve – and did Clint’s eyes dart down to follow his movement or had Bucky imagined it all? “Good.”

And a Nerf dart landed between Bucky’s eyes.

He blinked as Clint darted off, laughing, the bow he’d (of course) chosen, dangling loosely from his fingertips. Finishing off the rest of the bottle in one last gulp, Bucky tossed it at the trash, grabbed his Nerf gun and took off after Clint.

“I’m gonna get you for that, Barton!” he mock growled.

“I’d like to see you try!” Clint called over his shoulder, before vaulting the railing of the staircase and disappearing from view. Despite Clint being a more than capable fighter, an Avenger even, Bucky’s heart leapt in his throat at the casual disregard Clint had for himself. God, this was Stevie all over again.

“What’d I do to deserve two of you,” Bucky muttered.

“What was that Buck?” Steve’s voice asked over the com. Technically, if they saw each other, they played the game. It was only fair, but they weren’t aiming for each other, using the coms to coordinate Clint’s location. They’d learned early on that it was the only way to keep up with him.

“I said Barton just jumped down the staircase of the common room. I’m in pursuit,” Bucky said. “And the idiot better not have tripped over those stupid sweatpants and bashed his head in in the process.”

Steve made a sympathetic noise over the com, then went quiet again. Bucky took the stairs rather more sensibly than Clint had, unsure whether Barton would have run off, would be waiting at the bottom with another dart lined up, or if he’d be lying hurt on the ground.

Two of those options could have had Bucky landing on him and if Clint hadn’t been hurt before, he’d get hurt then.

And if he didn’t get hurt by Bucky landing on him…

Bucky didn’t think it was such a good idea, for completely different reasons. He and Steve were no strangers to sharing – they’d done it in the war, when Stevie’d found Peggy – but this thing Bucky was starting to realize for Clint… that was new, and he and Steve hadn’t even talked about it.

He stepped off the bottom step silently, gun out and ready. He’d be worried about how natural this felt, how seriously he was taking this – if it wasn’t for the joy he’d been feeling all day, for the garish colors of his weapon, for the warmth that suffused him instead of the cold.

Warmth of connection, instead of the cold of distance. He was good. No relapse into his programming imminent. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and carefully looked around. This was a library, with far too many bookcases to hide between.

Or above.

His eyes darted up, checking the top of each of the freestanding units – all the wall ones reached right up to the ceiling – but there was no sign of Clint anywhere.

Between, then. Or he’d gone out the other side, but the private library here took over the entire level and had a great many hiding spaces. Bucky had even created a bit of a nest, or haven in one of them.

Clint might know the tower better, but Bucky bet he knew the library best.

He grinned and moved forward, keeping a mental map of the maze of books and shelve till at last he found Clint nudging a book on the shelf and aiming through it. it was obvious Clint hadn’t heard him and Bucky’s grin only grew wider.

He dared a soft message to Steve with their location over the coms then went silent as he slowly edged up on Clint. He didn’t need to get in close, but after that last shot, Bucky wanted it, wanted to prove that he was just as sneaky as Clint was.

And also to pay him back for the start Clint had given _him._

* * *

“In the library. Southeast corner, that row just the other side of Heinlein, past that Thatch Palm,” Bucky’s voice whispered lightly in Steve’s ear. Steve was already in the library, having converged there after Buck’s earlier message.

He didn’t read a lot of sci fi, but he remembered the little palm tree. The various plants Tony had spread throughout the building had actually become something of a landmark for Steve when navigating the library, which, of course, Bucky knew.

And he wasn’t far from there either.

When Clint had been ambushing them the day before, it had been frustrating not to be able to fight back, so this idea of Bucky’s was brilliant. Steve pushed forward, padding quietly over the carpeting and froze when he heard a curse and a series of thuds and bangs from just ahead.

From where Bucky had said Clint was hiding.

Abandoning stealth, Steve lurched forward at a much faster pace, skidding around the palm plant to first see that several of the bookcases had fallen over – either completely or partially, some creating little tents and pockets of space. Dropping his nerf gun, Steve went to his knees before one of those pockets to peer inside, finding Bucky and Clint tangled on the floor, a stack of books in a mound over Bucky’s back as he crouched over Clint.

“Is he all right?” Steve asked breathlessly. He knew, even if Bucky had been hurt, that Bucky would brush it off as quick as Steve would, but that if Clint had been hit just right, it might not be so easily brushed off.

And Clint had only been wearing those damn sweatpants that had been taunting him (and Bucky – Steve hadn’t missed that at all) all day.

“Yeah,” Clint said with a sigh.

Steve stood, immediately setting his shoulder to the bookcase directly over Bucky and Clint and shifting it up enough against the weight of the other fallen shelving units that Bucky was able to shift, mounds of books sloughing off his back as he became almost upright, though still on his knees. Bucky carefully backed out of aisle, helping Clint up and out.

As soon as they were free of the pocket, Steve let the shelf go, barely listening to the thud as it hit the wall for the second time. Carefully, he stepped over the books that had spilled out of the aisle to bring himself to Bucky and Clint’s side.

“What happened?” Steve asked, his eyes sliding up and down Clint’s nearly naked body. There was already a bruise forming on his chest and there was a cut above his eye and Steve couldn’t help but reach forward to cup Clint’s jaw and turn his head to check for more injuries.

“Don’t know. I startled Clint and he hit the bookcase, but it shouldn’t have fallen _inward_ ,” Bucky said.

Clint’s cheeks were flushed, but he didn’t pull away from Steve’s hand. Wasn’t _that_ interesting? “I’m fine, Steve.”

“Maybe we should call it quits,” Bucky said.

Clint glared at them stubbornly. “I _said_ I’m fine. I can do this all day.”

Steve snorted at Bucky’s expression, finally dropping his hand from Clint’s face – albeit reluctantly – and stepping back out of his space. Steve was also interested to note that Clint seemed to sway towards him as he did, before he caught himself, his face turning redder.

“Fuck there really are two of you, aren’t there,” Bucky groaned, covering his face. Steve patted him on the back sympathetically.

“Huh?” Clint asked, blinking owlishly between them.

“Never mind,” Steve said quickly, a thought occurring to him. “JARVIS, do _you_ know what happened here?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers. It appears as though your choice of activity has inspired some of the other residents to start their own game. I believe it was Thor who knocked into the first shelf, creating a domino effect. He is unharmed and, currently, setting about to putting things back where they belong.” There was a brief pause. “Sir is also on his way to help.”

Steve nodded. “All right. I think that’s it, then. Game over. JARVIS, can you tell us who won?”

“I’m afraid there was no winner, Captain Rogers. None of you missed your shots, though Agent Barton – if I may – would have won if extra points were awarded for the level of difficulty of the shot being made.”

Clint fist pumped in the air, a softly hissed, “Yes,” escaping his mouth.

_Steve’s_ mouth went dry at the sight of Clint stretching like _that._ He almost whimpered. He felt Bucky crowd up behind him, just barely touching, his voice pitched low. “Feeling’s mutual, hey Stevie?”

“Yeah, yeah I’d say so,” Steve said softly before turning his voice up and putting a smile on before Clint could notice them staring. “Congratulations, Clint. It was a good game.”

Clint nodded, happiness suffusing his face. “I’d say that makes us even for the ice cream _and_ all the rest of it, don’t ya think?”

“Agreed. Now let’s help Thor with the mess,” Steve said.

Bucky groaned. “Always gotta be the responsible one, don’t ya?”

“That’s why I’m the team leader,” Steve said, walking quickly through the library to join Thor and the others with cleanup, Tony already talking about renovating one of the other levels into a dedicated space for things just like this and Steve was already thinking of ways that the game play could be incorporated into training.

Steve kept glancing at both Bucky and Clint while they stacked books out of the way and put the bookcases back where they belonged and other plans started forming in his head.

He’d have to wait, and watch, and see if what he suspected was true… but if it was… if Clint was as interested as Steve and Bucky were…

A fluttering excitement, a burgeoning hope filled Steve as he worked alongside his fellow teammates, flawlessly and seamlessly, the usual chatter rolling over her, Steve answering with one part of his mind while the other was occupied solely with Clint.

And every time he caught Bucky’s eye, Steve saw the same feelings reflected in them.

This, he realized suddenly, had been a long time coming, and he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before, but he was absolutely on board with it and from the looks Bucky shot him from time to time, so was he.


	3. The Pizza Date that Wasn't...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you seduce Clint Barton? Steve's got a plan but Bucky thinks it's not obvious enough...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, i'm done! the rating did NOT go past mature after all... but now i'm thinking i actually gotta bring it down. oh well - better safe than sorry right?
> 
> No POV changes this time.
> 
> p.s. after asking the mods, this is totally hitting my winterhawk bingo square for meddling best friends. it's nat, so it's subtle but it's definitely meddling :D

Bucky was relatively certain that Clint was just as interested in them as they were in him, so why hadn’t Clint made a move? Why hadn’t Steve?

Of course, the question could be asked, why hadn’t _he?_

The answer was Steve. Fella had sat them both down a couple days after the Nerf Gun incident to outline a plan to seduce Clint. Which was, incidentally enough, the reason why _Steve_ hadn’t made a move. He’d come up with a step by step plan and Bucky… Bucky didn’t think it was gonna hold up in the first engagement.

Clint was predictably… unpredictable.

Bucky had no other way to explain it. Clint had his routine. It was so like clockwork that Bucky could set his watch by it. If he wore one. Which he didn’t.

But when there were no emergencies or other duties on the schedule, Clint staggered out in the late midmorning, usually about 11am, chugged 2 pots of coffee before he was coherent and taking the second over to the couch to watch morning cartoons while hugging it. Always in those ratty sweatpants that seemed too long for his leg and made Bucky fear for his balance and safety. Always barefoot, the toes just barely peeking out from under those too long legs something adorable.

 _Sometimes_ with a shirt, sometimes not. Clint seemed to have something against clothes in general, so if it was cold, a blanket would be draped around his shoulders instead.

After morning coffee was breakfast and that was never the same thing twice. Then he’d disappear for an hour before reappearing on the range. He’d stay there for a few more hours before disappearing into his apartment for another hour. Then at five, he always went for a walk in Central Park, and he always came back with coffee – but never from the same place twice in a row. In fact, Bucky had seen him go an entire two weeks, once, without repeating where his coffee had come from.

He’d settle in for video games or movies around 8 and head to bed around midnight.

And sometimes, when his own nightmares kept him awake, Bucky would find Clint hanging out in the common room or up on the roof, or down in the range at two in the morning, or three, or four.

And yet, knowing Clint’s schedule, his addiction to coffee and his general lack of care for himself still in no way prepared Steve nor Bucky for the idiosyncrasies’ of the man. Bucky, at least, had never known anyone quite like him. It was part of what had drawn Bucky to Clint in the first place, to be honest. Though repeated exposure showed that not only was there more to Clint than they’d first thought, but that he had a lot in common with both of them, on different and (sometimes) unexpected levels.

All in all, Bucky just wished they’d asked and gotten on with it, but Stevie had wanted to do it the old fashioned way. So when Clint stumbled into the common kitchen in the morning, Steve and Bucky had coffee and breakfast waiting. When Clint went down to the range, Steve had had some specialty arrows made up for Clint and left for him, while Bucky joined him for a little light competition.

Throughout Clint’s day, they both of them – either singly or together – quietly made themselves available or useful to Clint in whatever ways they could think of.

It went on for a week, Bucky getting further frustrated by lack of progress and Steve counseling patience which, seriously Steve? Anyway, Bucky could be patient, but he didn’t think Clint was even _aware_ of what was going on, so he believed a change of tactics was in order but Steve didn’t rethink his position until Nat cornered them both after breakfast one morning after Clint had merrily departed.

Cornered was a strong word.

While Steve and Bucky cleaned up from breakfast, Nat sat down at the breakfast bar with a cup of tea. “I wonder what a girl has to do to get breakfast service like _that_ around here,” she mused, sipping at the cup. Steve and Bucky paused and glanced back at her warily. Steve immediately turned red, his face already turning guilty.

“Oh, uh, it’s… not like that…” Steve stammered. “I mean… we were already making our own breakfast and he was here and – “

“So if I’d arrived with Clint, would I have been invited to breakfast?”

Steve’s mouth gaped, opening and closing like a fish. Bucky reached over and shut it with a rueful shake of his head.

“I see,” Nat said, a smile gracing her face before she partially obscured it with her mug. “But I don’t think _he_ does. If you catch my drift. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen…”

Nat pushed back her stool and disappeared before Steve or Bucky could even move again. Steve turned to look at Bucky, blinking.

“You think she’s right? He hasn’t even noticed our interest?”

“You’re asking if the man’s best friend and closest family knows him?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steve deflated. “No, you’re right. I just, I don’t want to scare him off. We’re certain he’s interested in both of us right?”

Bucky clasped a hand over Steve’s shoulder comfortingly. “Yeah, Stevie.”

“It’s just that, if we’re wrong, this could change the team dynamic… I’m the team leader. I have to keep that in mind.”

“Stevie,” Bucky said slowly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “At this point, doing _anything_ can change the team dynamic, so fuck it. If we ask and we’re wrong, it’s changed. If we ask and we’re right, it’s changed. If we ask, we’re right and later it goes to shit, it’s changed and if it doesn’t, it’s still changed. If we do nothing, if we don’t settle this question one way or the other… it’s still changed.”

Bucky ended the sentence softly and gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. Steve blew out a breath, then nodded.

“Okay, you’re right,” Steve said.

“Bout time you admitted that,” Bucky said, laughing. “Cause I’m _always_ right.”

Steve batted his arm away with a laugh. “Shut up, you punk.”

“Never. Now let’s go ask our fella out on a date.”

* * *

Of course, resolving to do something and actually doing it were two different things. Steve wanted to get him flowers and Bucky wanted to get him coffee and then they had to find the right time to approach him.

Couldn’t be in public. Neither of them were comfortable with having people witness this – no matter which way it ended, so after some debate, they decided to catch Clint before he went out on his walk.

They arrived at his door around 4:30 and knocked. It took a few, long and agonizing moments and another round of knocking, before the door opened and a confused looking Clint stood in the doorway.

Confused and, once again, shirtless. Bucky was finding it hard to keep his eyes trained on his face. Steve, at least, was fighting a similar impulse to look down. Did Clint just not realize what he _looked_ like? How going around half naked was _killing_ them?

To be fair, it was his own rooms. But still… that wasn’t the point.

“Hey guys,” he said. “What’s up? Missed you at the range today,” he continued to Bucky, stepping back to invite them in.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Had something going on,” Bucky said.

Clint nodded knowingly, glancing between them. Bucky should have known he’d picked up on them, on them being together. Then again, they weren’t _exactly_ trying to hide anything, anymore. They just weren’t advertising anything. Still… maybe that was why Clint hadn’t made a move himself yet?

“Uh, hey Clint,” Steve said softly, suddenly all nerves and shyness. Bucky almost rolled his eyes. _And this is why they thought Captain America was a goddamned virgin the whole time_ , he thought.

Steve’s blushing had reached a whole new level before Bucky took pity on him and, by proxy, himself, since if Steve couldn’t get to the point then neither of them was getting anywhere with Clint.

“We came to ask you something,” Bucky said.

“Anything,” Clint answered easily, plopping himself on the back of the couch in a lazy, sprawled out manner that only Clint could ever seem to pull off.

Steve coughed. “You uh, might change your mind about that when you hear what we have to ask.”

Clint eyed them warily. “Ooookay,” he said slowly. “So, ask.”

Bucky nudged Steve. “The flowers. Give him the flowers,” he muttered.

Jostled into motion, Steve lurched forward, bringing the bouquet out from behind his back and thrusting them at Clint, his face even redder now. How was that possible?

Slowly, looking back and forth between Steve and Bucky, Clint took the flowers. All purple ones, of course. Steve had wanted to get an assortment with special meanings in mind but Bucky had opted for Clint’s favorite color and smiling in vindication when he looked it up and found they meant Admiration and Adoration.

So they’d compromised.

“What’s the flowers for?” Clint asked. “Not that I don’t want them, but I don’t think anyone’s ever brought me flowers before if I wasn’t hurt or sick.”

“Steve’s more of a traditionalist. I brought you coffee,” Bucky said, presenting the large and still steaming to go cup from the one place he thought might be Clint’s favorite.

Clint blinked at them as he took it. And then seemed to _actually_ look at them, taking in how carefully they were both dressed – which wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and neat, both of them in slacks and button downs, Steve in a cabled sweater, Bucky with his leather jacket.

“Wait… are you… asking me _out_?” Clint’s voice was disbelieving.

Steve nodded firmly. “But it’s okay to say no. I know I’m the team captain but we don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. This won’t affect the team, I promise.”

“ _Both_ of you?” Clint asked, voice rising slightly in pitch.

Bucky stuffed his now empty hands into his pockets, wanting to hide the fine tremble in them. As much as he’d assured Steve that Clint _was_ interested, it didn’t mean that Clint was _prepared_ for what they were asking. He hadn’t seen anything but couples being portrayed in any media since he’d come to the tower. What if Clint wasn’t okay with this idea?

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky said gruffly. “We both like you and, if we’re not reading things wrong, you like both of us, an’ if you’re amenable to the idea, we’d love to be with you.”

“At… the same time?” Clint said, the disbelief finally seeming to give away to a glint in his eye that took Bucky’s breath away.

“That’s the idea,” Steve said. Steve must have seen something in Clint’s demeanor change as well, because they shy Steve was gone and bold Steve was back, striding forward and stopping a hands breath away from Clint. His voice dropped low, the sort of deep rumble that always sent a shiver through Bucky. “Tell us you haven’t been thinkin’ of this… of kissing us… of all of us in bed together…”

Clint’s eyes widened and his lips parted, breath quickening and Bucky stepped closer too, gently taking Clint’s jaw and turning it toward him. “Can we kiss you?”

Seemingly dazed, Clint nodded, eyes locked onto Bucky’s. Bucky leaned forward slowly, so slowly, giving Clint every opportunity to change his mind. Fireworks went off in his head and through his fingertips as he gently brushed his lips over Clint’s, teasing with light kisses, listening to Clint’s breathing getting even choppier.

Bucky barely heard the rustle of the flowers being taken from Clint’s hands, but he sure as hell felt it when Clint suddenly wrapped both arms around Bucky’s neck and yanked him down with a growl. “Stop teasing and _kiss_ me already.”

Obligingly, Bucky pressed in harder, scraping teeth over Clint’s lower lip before slipping his tongue inside. Beneath him, Clint groaned as he returned the kiss eagerly. It was a long, long moment before Bucky was finally pulled away, Steve’s hand in his hair, tugging gently but firmly as they both watched Clint’s chest heaving under him.

“My turn,” Steve complained.

Clint’s glazed over eyes flickered from Bucky’s lips, to Bucky’s eyes, over to Steve and then he smiled. “Aww, did we make you feel left out?” he asked. Clint’s voice was breathless and Bucky felt proud of himself. Then the breath was punched out of him a second later as Steve and Clint’s mouths crashed together and Steve gave himself over completely to the kiss, Clint’s eyes fluttered and Bucky stared.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, watching them intently, need throbbing through him. Fuck, they had meant to take him out on a date – a _real_ date, but Bucky was rapidly finding it hard to think about anything other than the three of them in bed together, right this very second. With a _groan_ , Bucky found himself drawn inexorably closer, till his mouth was closing over the flesh of Clint’s throat, sucking hard, needy kisses into his skin, marking him as _his,_ as _theirs._

“Oh, fuck,” Clint gasped when Steve momentarily released his mouth. “Fuck, I don’t know where this came from, but I’m _definitely_ on board.”

“Good,” Bucky said into Clint’s neck, mouthing his way up and over Clint’s jaw and pausing over his mouth. “Cause I don’t wanna stop kissing you. Think I can do this all goddamn day…”

“Stop stealing my lines, punk,” Steve said.

Clint pulled back, amusement and arousal mixing together on his face. “I think you boys have already proved you can share.”

“True,” Steve said softly, nudging in for another kiss.

They never did make their reservation to that fancy pizzeria they’d planned on if Clint had said yes. Then again, Clint didn’t seem to have any objections to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so again, totally envisioning this sliding right into or around the first chapter of ["It's Not Porn, It's Art..." ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901272/chapters/49685543) so i had to kinda establish a point where it was easily believable that Clint misconstrued what was going on...


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